My Sister’s Habit
My Sister’s Habit It was Friday night, about three o’clock. My sister Deanne had come home a minute ago, blind drunk again, as she often did lately. Right now, she was stumbling up the stairs in a fruitless attempt to make as little noise as possible to avoid waking up our parents. Of course, she didn’t need to worry about that, I doubt even a cannon blast would wake them. Not with his loud snoring and her earplugs. However, it did wake me. In a few more moments Deanne would stumble into my room, she always did. My cock was already swelling in anticipation. “Hi shexy” she slurred as she staggered through the door and steadied herself with both hands on my bed. I could smell beer on her breath, then taste it as she …